


Bloom

by chelouple28



Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: Fluff, Idiot Eliott that's for sure, Idiots in Love, Jealous Eliott, M/M, This was gonna be a lot more cheesy but my mecs had other plans, Will i ever be able to write something serious that's the question, orrrr is he :DD, the author has an unhealthy problem with troye sivan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-06-29 08:29:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19826365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chelouple28/pseuds/chelouple28
Summary: If Eliott hears the name “Troye Sivan” one more time, he might just set his apartment on fire.orThe one where Eliott tried to be a cute boyfriend and instead got his boyfriend hooked on a pop singer.This is why they don't have nice things.





	Bloom

**Author's Note:**

> hello my beautiful people! back again with another prompt <3
> 
> This is the first time I write from Eliott's POV, so let me know what you think :) Also, the reason why it took me this long is because I honest to god didn't know what to do with the prompts (5. Wait a minute. Are you jealous? & 42\. I swear it was an accident.) so it took me a long time to come up with something I felt comfortable with (yes, me, not a fan of jealousy. no thank you)
> 
> as always, kudos and comments are appreciated. I hope you enjoy! I love every single one of you <33  
> send me more prompts or come share your love in [eluincorrectquotes](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/eluincorrectquotes)

If Eliott hears the name “Troye Sivan” one more time, he might just set his apartment on fire. Don’t get him wrong – he has nothing against the guy. He thinks he’s pretty cool and admires what he’s doing for the music industry, even.

It’s just.

Lucas won’t _shut up_ about him.

And Eliott feels like that might be his fault, somehow. He was the one with the brilliant idea to get his boyfriend the dude’s album for their 6th month anniversary (amongst other things, of course. Lucas deserves the world, after all.)

He deserves a pat on the head for that one. A hard one. (A slap, that’s what he deserves. God help him and his patience – if he has to hear on full blast all about the dude’s first sex experience at 9am one more time he _will_ cry.)

Eliott would really appreciate it, if his boyfriend could stop talking about how fucking hot and cute Troye Sivan is, and instead pay some attention to his gorgeous boyfriend that’s currently gazing at him seductively from the couch – okay, so maybe not _seductively_. He’s in his boxers and a ratty, old t-shirt (that he’s sure he stole off Lucas’ wardrobe, at some point. They’re a few sizes too small, but they smell like Lucas’ detergent, so who’s really winning here?), and he’s trying to lick some pizza crumbs off his lips.

So, not the embodiment of a Greek God, but still something, right?

As much as the lack of attention nags him, he can’t bring himself to tell Lucas to stop. Every single time he tries to – turning his head and mouth open, ready to speak – he will catch Lucas’ eyes, bright and filled with excitement, already looking at Eliott with the sheer wonder of a child at a fun fair.

He never stood a chance with this boy, did he?

Case in point, Lucas is standing a few meters away from the couch, phone in hand, and he’s been rattling off about a new song – _a single, Eliott. It has a music video_ – for the past 10 minutes. Exactly the same time Eliott has been making grabby hands at him. Needless to say, his pleas have been rudely ignored so far.

“And his outfit in this one looks incredible. It fits so well with his new hair, which, by the way, did you know he-”

Eliott probably doesn’t know. He knows he’s craving his boyfriend’s waist between his hands, though. He fixes Lucas’s back with a stare, which he hopes Lucas will feel, because next step is him whining, and he _will_ do it, don’t doubt that for a second, but he’d also like to avoid it. He’s a grown man now, already graduated from high school and all.

“Lu-” Eliott starts, still giving the younger boy the sad eyes, when Lucas turns around.

His breath hitches.

Lucas places his phone on the table – _finally_ , Eliott’s inner voice screams – and faces Eliott. He’s smiling at him – that dimpled smile that make him weak in the knees, all white teeth and gums visible – with his eyes crinkling at the ends, bright and blue.

Lucas always shoves him away, but Eliott is convinced someone hid half the night sky on Lucas’ eyes when he was born. He loves telling Lucas so. Lucas just calls him an idiot, bashful smile adorning his face and a pink blush high on his cheeks.

His smile doesn’t falter for a second as he lets himself be thrown into the couch, as Eliott tugs on his t-shirt, chest colliding against his boyfriend’s. He lands with an _oof_ , immediately tucking his legs between Eliott’s knees, and folds his arms, resting his hands on Eliott’s chest. He looks up at him, grinning with mirth.

“Hi.”

“Hello.” Eliott whispers back, soft lips pressing against Lucas’ cheek.

Lucas closes his eyes, sighing contentedly, and nudges his nose against Eliott’s. Eliott tightens his grip on Lucas’ hips, pulling him impossibly closer to his body, and breathes in the content feeling in the room.

When he blinks again, Lucas is already staring at him, eyes studying every inch of his face with an easy smile.

“I love you.” It’s whispered in the dead of the night, like a well-kept secret. It sounds important; transcendental, in some way – nevermind that he’s heard Lucas utter those same words an infinite number of times, now.

This is one of the times when he feels like his heart doesn’t fit in his chest, so full with love and admiration for the boy lying in his arms. Eliott has never loved anyone as much as he loves him.

He doesn’t even pretend to be mad when, 2 minutes later, Lucas throws himself into yet another rant about fucking Troye Sivan’s new haircut.

***

It’s way past midnight, they’re at some random girl’s party – _Katia? Katherine?_ – and Eliott should have brought a jacket with him. He’ll admit it, going to a party in a black t-shirt sounds okay, theoretically speaking - it is not great, however, knowing you’ll have to go out there and walk to your apartment in the biting cold of November.

Eliott huffs to himself, dusting his jeans off as he stands up. He feels Lucas’ hand – previously tucked inside his back pocket – brushing down his leg until it falls limp on the couch, and Eliott has to repress the urge to snort at his boyfriend’s loopy expression.

Eliott smiles to himself a little, crunching down to leave a loud kiss on Lucas’ forehead. Lucas crosses his eyes when Eliott leans down, and he shouldn’t be this endeared by a 17 year old boy, but he is.

“Don’t take too long.”

Eliott drops a fast kiss to Lucas’ lips before moving his head to look at the rest of the gang, all laid on the sofa in various states of drunk off their asses. He catches Yann’s eye and grins, shaking his head at how fast Basile has taken over his space on the couch – not much, admittedly. He and Lucas had been sharing the same spot the whole night, almost on top of each other but not quite.

“I won’t.”

Lucas gives him a toothy grin, and Eliott can’t help but kiss him again. Lucas tangles his hands clumsily on Eliott’s hair, preventing the older one from pulling away too soon. Eliott indulges him for a second, moving his lips softly against Lucas’. He pulls back with a laugh when he feels the younger boy’s licking his bottom lip, trying to coax his mouth open.

He laughs some more at Lucas’ grumbled complaints, and gives him a peck before getting up.

“Fucking whipped!” He hears one of the boys yell as he makes his way through the crowd. He turns around, finding Arthur grinning at him, and he shrugs, walking backwards into the kitchen.

He sees Arthur moving to ask Lucas “ _why the hell does he always walk like that_?” to which Lucas responds by looking at him before shrugging and lolling his head to the other side.

Eliott snorts.

He walks into the kitchen, still smiling to himself, as he tries not to bump into anyone. It’s a hard task, if you ask him – most of this people are so drunk they’re sweating alcohol already.

“Eliott!” A shrill voice screams into his ear, making Eliott jump. He winces, letting out a sigh of relief when he sees he hasn’t dropped the bottle of vodka he was previously holding. Thank fucking God he hasn’t stained his shirt – it’s the only one left clean. He should really do the laundry.

“Eliott, oh my God! We haven’t seen each other in so long” The girl screams again, and Eliott understands drunk people don’t know the meaning of moderation, but his eardrums _do_ , and they’d appreciate a little quiet. “How are you? You finally graduated, right?”

Eliott smiles politely, returning the half hug he’s suddenly found himself in, and blinks at the sight of red hair going up his nose.

“Yeah, yeah.” Eliott splutters, trying to get rid of the hair in his mouth. “I did, thank you.”

“I’m so glad! Are you still with Lucas? I hope so! Give him a hug from me, I haven’t seen him all night.” She rambles, still glued to his side. He gives her a little pat on the back, unsure of what to do with his hands. “Anyway, it was nice talking to you! Let’s catch up some time, yeah? Bye!”

And just like that, she’s off to where she came from.

Eliott blinks slowly. _What_.

He shrugs to himself before proceeding to pour the mix into the empty cups. That’s what he’s come to – a bartender. Get a boyfriend, they said. It’ll be great, they said.

(Actually, no one said anything. On the contrary, if he had to take a shot for every time someone told him falling in love with Lucas was a poor decision, he’d be in a coma. But Eliott, stubborn as he is, blatantly ignored every single one of them. Turned out to be the best decision he’s ever made. Who’s bad at decision making now, uh?)

He balances all four drinks – he’s on chaperone duties today, so, no drinking for him. It’s not a bad deal, since alcohol interferes with his meds – into his arms, making his way to the couch on a far off corner in the room. His face automatically lights up when he finds his boyfriend, who seems to be engaged in a serious conversation, if his facial expression and hands gestures are anything to go by.

He catches little snippets of Lucas’ deep speech the closer he gets to them. He fights the need to groan out loud when his ears catch things like _“pretty, platinum hair”_ and _“savior of the music industry”_ or _“plump lips to die for”_. He makes himself take the few steps that are left between him and the couch, gritting his teeth with every step.

Yann, Arthur and Basile seem as engrossed in the conversation as Lucas, not even acknowledging him when he stands in front of them – Eliott doubts they’ve even noticed him. He stays there for a whole minute, eyebrows furrowed as he waits for any of them to notice him – if his hands weren’t so preoccupied with the drinks he’s holding, he’d be aggressively crossing his arms right now.

After what seems like forever, Lucas averts his eyes from Yann for a millisecond, flashing a smile at Eliott before taking a drink from his hand and joining the conversation as fast as he’d left it.

“Thank you, baby! Now, as I was saying- Troye’s first album”

Eliott stays there, dumbfounded for a second. Lucas’ action must trigger the other boys, because next thing he knows, three other boys are lunging at the drinks on his hands, throwing little _“thanks dude!”_ and _“yeah, Eliott. You’re chill”_ over their shoulders. Eliott, honest to God, has never felt more confused in his life.

“O… _kay_ ” he mumbles to himself, when it’s obvious none of the boys are willing to make room for him on the couch. He sighs a little, sinking into the little chair next to the sofa, and bangs his head softly against the wall.

He closes his eyes, trying to tune out the drunk conversation going on by his right side.

“And I swear guys, he deadass invented the color blue with his eyes. Sea blue. His eyes- ugh”

Eliott huffs. As if.

“Such lips. So pink”

He has pretty lips too, Lucas’ told him so.

“And his hair, guys it looks so soft. Like _… a soft cloud_ – a fluffy cloud.”

Troye fucking Sivan fucking wishes he had his hair as fluffy as his. Everyone knows his hair is the fluffiest. Drunk Lucas doesn’t know what he’s talking about – just two months ago, he’d proclaimed the real way to have cereal is by pouring the milk first. Drunk Lucas obviously doesn’t know shit.

“He is just… so good.”

“Iconic.”

“A mans.”

Eliott is this close to adding pyromaniac to his curriculum. Bipolar, pansexual and pyromaniac. Makes a great résumé.

“I mean I don’t know, but if Troye Sivan came to my house I wouldn’t close the door on me-”

Okay.

That’s it.

He bangs his head against the wall again, _harder_.

So back to those decision making skills… Yeah, turns out he’s not as good as he claims to be-

Because _holy shit_ , that did not sound like a skull banging into concrete. The sound of glass breaking behind his head startles him so much he shoots up from the chair, wide eyes looking at the cracked cupboard hung over the chair.

The pounding of his head makes it difficult to concentrate on the voices yelling around him. He thinks there’s Lucas, touching the back of his head with slow, delicate hands – a contrast to his frantic voice, asking him if he’s okay over and over again.

There’s the host, too, Katrina, now that he really thinks about it, shouting things like “ _What the fuck!_ ” and “ _Why did you try to crack your head against my furniture?_ ”

“What even were you trying to accomplish here, man? What the fuck” She sounds mad as fuck. Eliott can’t blame her, he’d too be fuming if someone had tried to crack a glass cupboard open with their head.

“I am so, so sorry, Katrina.” Eliott responds sincerely, blushing a little from embarrassment. “I swear it was an accident. The chair just slipped, and-“

“Okay.” She cuts him off with fussy gestures. “Just don’t try to break any other piece of furniture with your head, or else I’ll kick you out. Understood?”

Eliott nods, swallowing hard when she finally leaves. He feels soft hands squeezing his arms, and he lets himself fall against the hard chest behind him for a second, resting his head on Lucas’ shoulder. Slim arms sneak up his waist, securing him.

“Are you okay?” Lucas murmurs against his hair.

Eliott nods a little, and the more the shock leaves him, the more the embarrassment of what he’s done settles into his bones. He suppresses a shiver, curling himself more into Lucas.

“What the hell was that?” Lucas murmurs, to Eliott or to himself, Eliott isn’t sure. Either way, he doesn’t respond. “Do you want to come sit down with me for a second?”

“Okay.”

Lucas squeezes his middle before letting him go, and follows him to the couch. He sits down between Arthur and the armrest, and smiles at the other boys when he feels a light squeeze on his knee. Lucas sits on the armrest, caging Eliott’s lap with his own legs, and moving to card his hands through Eliott’s hair.

Eliott hums into it, exhaling softly.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“100%”

“It doesn’t hurt?”

“Not even a little bit.”

“You would tell me if it did though, right?”

Eliott lifts his head up to look at Lucas, taking one of Lucas’ hand out of his hair and kissing his palm.

“You know I would.”

Lucas seems to release the breath he was holding, taking Eliott’s hand and tangling their fingers together, adoring smile on his face.

“Okay, that’s cool.”

“That’s cool.”

Eliott repositions his body so his head is half resting on the couch half on Lucas’ arm, focusing on Lucas’ fingers combing his hair. The music and drunk yelling fade into the background, and Eliott feels like he can finally take a breather tonight.

After 20 minutes in sober time –2 minutes in drunk time, everyone knows this – Lucas breaks their little bubble of peace and quiet.

“Wanna tell me now how the hell you managed to hit yourself that hard?”

“I was bored. I miscalculated.”

He still has his eyes closed, but he can feel Lucas’ unimpressed stare shooting daggers at his head.

“Being bored is not a good excuse to bash your head into a wall, Eliott.”

“Ignoring me when I’m right there is not a good way to keep a boyfriend, Lucas.”

Lucas’ hand stops in his hair, and Eliott fights off the pout that’s threatening to take over.

“What?”

“I mean, I get that that dude Sivonne is hot and all, but is that really an excuse to keep your boyfriend out of the conversation for 10 minutes?” Eliott teases, pushing his head against Lucas’ hand until he starts playing with his hair again. “That’s just not how you treat a boy like me, baby. I have standards.”

“Standards? You literally broke into a boat for our first date. Our first date was a felony, Eliott.”

“That was different-“

“And anyway, it wasn’t that bad-“

“No? Oh Sivéin, I love your toned muscles. Sivannie’s eyes, they’re the color of the deep ocean; and his hair, a literal cloud –“

“Okay, I do not sound like that.” Lucas puffs indignantly. Eliott tries not to laugh at the expression of pure outrage on his face. “And why the fuck do you keep messing up his name- _wait_. Are you _jealous_?”

Eliott splutters.

“ _Me_?! Of what?”

“Fuck, you _are_ jealous.” Eliott tries to shush Lucas’ loud cackles, unsuccessfully. He sinks further into the couch, face hot red. “This is hilarious. _Baby_ -“

After a bit of nudging, Eliott finally turns his head, letting Lucas cup his face between his hands.

“Baby, you know you are my favorite person. The fact that you feel remotely jealous of him is laughable.” He whispers between them, punctuating each word with a wet kiss. “There’s no one” a kiss to the cheek “that could ever” on his brows, his nose, his chin “compare” the corner of his mouth “to you.”

Lucas captures his lips in a languid kiss, parting his lips a second after, and Eliott can taste the gummy bears and blue vodka on his own tongue. It’s the best thing he’s tasted today.

“Good.” Eliott says when they part with a loud pop. “It’s less me being jealous, and more me needing some attention, you know? Like, I’m usually fine – I really like hearing you talk about the things you like, because you get this excited glint in your eyes that I love. I don’t know, I just felt a little ignored tonight. But it’s fine. We’re fine.”

Eliott closes the distance again, unable to stop himself, and drops one, two, three kisses on Lucas’ lips.

“We’re _so_ fine.” Lucas mumbles against Eliott’s lips, catching his bottom lip between his teeth and pulling.

“ _Perfect_.” Eliott exhales, eyelashes fluttering against Lucas’ cheeks. Lucas pulls away to look at Eliott, resting their foreheads together, panting.

He doesn’t give him a heads up when he suddenly takes Eliott’s chin between his fingers, squishing his mouth like a fish.

“Next time you need attention though, refrain from smashing your head into a window maybe?” He laughs cheekily, sticking out his tongue.

“I _told you_ I miscalculated, you _little_ -”


End file.
